Misguided Sympathy
by Vashka
Summary: An earthshattering conversation with Draco Malfoy makes Hermione see the errors of her ways. Will the Slytherins and Gryffindors survive Hermione’s kindness intact? Or will the spirit of Interhouse Cooperation triumph?
1. Default Chapter

Title: Misguided Sympathy 

Author: Vashka 

Rating: PG-13 for some cursing 

Author's Note: Had a good time writing this fic… I hope it is funny! Thanks to my beta for getting this to me so quickly. 

Summary: An earth-shattering conversation with Draco Malfoy makes Hermione see the errors of her ways. Will the Slytherins and Gryffindors survive Hermione's kindness intact? Or will the spirit of Interhouse Cooperation triumph?

000

**Disclaimer** – I really don't own Harry Potter

000

The halls of Hogwarts at night were eerily silent at night. Apart from the occasional rustle of a painting, all was usually silent after curfew.

Except when the Gryffindors and Slytherins had patrol.

For some unfathomable reason, Dumbledore felt that the path to true Unity between the houses should be paved with the pain Gryffindors and Slytherins. Because of this new policy, the Gryffindor and Slytherin Prefects were together on patrol. Consistently.

The Boy-Who-Lived _finally_ killed Voldemort late in his sixth year. Then he burned the body. And put enough wardings on the ashes to keep him from conveniently rising from the dead. Again.

So, as all was safe and cozy at Hogwarts, one would expect that the fierce interhouse rivalries would diminish, and everyone would live happily ever after.

Wrong.

Many of the Slytherins had surprisingly turned against their parents and fought for the light. Or, if putting their necks on the line wasn't exactly their thing, they stayed neutral in the inevitable battle. They went to school with the Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Die, and saw him in action on a regular basis. Voldemort didn't stand a chance. So, as all good Slytherins should, they backed the winner. (Rule #7,_ Slytherin Handbook_)

But that didn't mean that they _liked_ it.

So, as a result of Perfect Potter forcing their hands, they went about making the lives of all the other students in Hogwarts as miserable as possible.

Not that anyone expected anything less, really. They were Slytherins after all.

Unsurprisingly, it was the obligatory contact of the Prefects that caused the most conflict. Forced civility could get very ugly, very quickly.

Between one Head Girl, Hermione Granger and one Seventh Year Prefect Draco Malfoy, the arguments were particularly bad. Although Ronald Weasley and Pansy Parkinson's shouting matches were legendary, Draco and Hermione had insulting each other down to a fine art. A ballet of obscenities, it was almost a required study for all Gryffindor and Slytherin First Years, just to see how interhouse relations were _supposed_ to be conducted.

Both agile and quick on the uptake, it was also funny as hell to watch.

On this particular night, soon after the Christmas Hols, Hermione and Draco were, once again, assigned to patrol together.

"… and whatever is the matter with your hair Malfoy? You must have used enough to bleach to clean a small country to get it to turn that horrid color."

"As if you are entitled to talk about hair! That rat's nest of yours looks like it hasn't been combed since second year. And my hair is perfectly natural, thank you very much."

Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were walking closely together down the deserted charms corridor. Together, they actually made a striking picture with their complementary coloring and heights. Neither were breathtakingly beautiful, Draco's features too pointed for true beauty, Hermione's a little too plain. Still, together they seemed to make something more than they were individually.

Hexes on the poor sap who told them, though.

"…So just because they aren't human they don't have rights? They don't have feelings? You are the most prejudiced, sneaky little ferret I have ever had the displeasure to meet." After this bold statement, Hermione turned around to look said sneaky ferret straight in his gray eyes, bracing herself for his attack.

When it came, it was surprisingly mild. "You know, you are quite prejudiced and judgmental yourself."

Bristling like Crookshanks after having been rubbed the wrong way, Hermione's dark eyes snapped. "I am not! I want equality and fair treatment for all people and creatures, which is more than I can say for _you_ Malfoy." As she spoke, she seemed to wrap her dignity around her like a cloak, looking like a tiny wild-haired queen.

Draco leisurely settled his slim frame against the cold, stone wall. He studied her angry face impassively for a moment before calmly stating his case. "Consider this: as soon as a student is sorted into Slytherin, they are an outsider. _Discriminated_ against by your own precious rules, in your own precious school, under the blind eyes of your own precious Dumbledore."

Now his face didn't look so impassive. He looked downright scary. "An eleven year old _child_ with no idea what is happening is feared, loathed, by the other houses and professors. Now tell me Granger, is that _fair_?"

His gray eyes gazed intently into her wide, dark eyes for a moment, searching for something known only to him. Seemingly satisfied, he walked back down the corridor in the direction of the dungeons, cloak whirling dramatically, leaving a very confused girl in his wake.

He had done the impossible. He had left Hermione Granger speechless.

000

At breakfast the next morning, Hermione was abstracted. This was not an unusual occurrence, but it usually did not occur until later in the term. She was not consulting her day-planner, was not reading the _Daily Prophet_, and more importantly, was not paying one bit of attention to her friends.

After watching her poke listlessly at the eggs on her plate with her fork and miss, making a screeching noise for the third time in five minutes, Harry grew concerned enough to comment.

"Erhm, Hermione, are you alright?"

Silence.

Harry thought it was prudent to try again. "Hermione? Hermione, are you listening?"

When all the response he got was a muttered statement about elves and evil snakes, he thought it was a good idea to leave her alone for a while.

000

Hermione had been in deep thought. _Deep_ thought. The kind that distracts from all other silly trivialities of life. (Such as those frivolous things like eating, sleeping and bathing) It wasn't often that her highly logical and organized mind turned in on itself to the extent that she forgot something important, and for some inane reason they mostly revolved around one twitchy ferret. (Missing Charms after The Slapping Incident sprung to mind)

This time around, she was in her stupor for about a week, instead of an afternoon. (Her roommates and friends were so kind as to direct her to do those silly things like eating, sleeping, and bathing. They were quite used to it by this point.) During class, at mealtimes, in the library, by the lake, her mind was fixated on the conversation with Draco.

Was she really prejudiced?

She had thought she was perfectly fair and unbiased towards all people/creatures/sentient plants/whatever that existed.

Shockingly naive of her, really.

Had she ever thought of the Slytherins as potential friends? Had she ever seen them as anything other than slimy, evil, and sneaky?

No.

And she was ashamed.

So, as it became time for her to patrol again with the boy who had inspired her revolutionary epiphany, she slowly came out of her deep thoughts.

As they walked through the dim corridors, Hermione was uncharacteristically quiet, and Draco was distinctly uncomfortable at her change of temperament. He tried the usual insults- her hair, teeth, her general know-it-all annoying manner, but nothing seemed to get a response.

It was quite odd.

So they continued in awkward silence.

As they were breaking up to head back to their respective dorms, Hermione suddenly turned and grabbed his arm. Startled, an electrical thrill running up Draco's arm at the contact, he looked into her shadowed eyes.

Intrigued by their uncharacteristic softness, he almost missed her quiet words, "Do you… Do you really feel that way about what you said last week?"

Looking at her earnest expression, he thought she looked really pretty when she wasn't angry.

Taken aback by his wayward thoughts, he eloquently said, "Uh, yeah."

Hermione's slim, arched brows furrowed in a thoughtful look and then she walked away without a response.

He might have heard her say, "I thought so…"

000

At breakfast the next morning, Hermione was in her element. As it was unusual for Hermione to be as bubbly as a Third Year Hufflepuff, especially with her recent behavior, she garnered the undivided attention of her friends.

Regaling a story of how Crabbe had set fire to Snape's Robes in NEWT-level Potions, Ron was almost purple from laughter, and the others weren't far behind.

Recovering first, Harry leaned forward towards Hermione and said, "Well, Hermione, I'm glad you're back. What were you thinking about this time? More plans to take over the world?"

Hermione smiled at his teasing, took a sip of her tea and said lightly, "I am in an especially good mood this morning. Always am after a particularly productive night."

Ron, interested, spoke around bits of his breakfast. "Whot 'bout?"

Tsking slightly at his lack of manners, but otherwise ignoring the disgusting sight, Hermione just grinned and said, "I am starting a new Society of Students to promote Interhouse Unity between the Slytherins and the rest of the houses. And, from careful observation, I think the relations between all the houses could be much improved. Slytherin is simply the house that stands out as the root of the issue."

Ron promptly spat out his pumpkin juice.

Ignoring the disgusted sputtering of Neville (who was unfortunately sitting across from him) he sputtered, "Are you bloody _mad_?" turning to Harry, he said, "Is she serious? Tell me she's joking."

"S.I.C.K., or more precisely, the Society for Interhouse Cooperation and Kindness is _not_ a joke Ronald Weasley." Hermione crossed her arms defensively, "The first meeting is tonight… will you come?"

Not noticing her hopeful question, Ron had latched onto the name and ignored the rest of her words. He looked at Harry, Neville, and Ginny and then promptly burst out laughing. "Sick?" Barely getting out the words in between bursts of laughter (and Hermione's protests that her society was not called _sick_ but _S.I.C.K._), he nudged Harry in the ribs, "Oi mate, did you hear that?"

Harry and Neville had a bit more tact than Ron. Which meant that they were turning red from trying to hold back their laughter. Instead, Neville (when he had control over himself) turned to Hermione, who was looking at Ron with an expression of hurt on her face. "Um, Hermione… You _are_ trying to recruit members aren't you?"

"Of course."

Ron cut off whatever Neville was going to say, "Than just why did you pick such a bloody _stu_…" Whatever he was going to say was cut off by the timely application of his lovely little sister's hand to his mouth.

Ginny, now holding both hands over the lips of a protesting Ron, spoke instead. "What my dear, dear, elder brother means to say is that once again Hermione, we are all astounded by the way you have with words. Especially Acronyms."

Hermione smiled faintly, but her eyes remained determined and hard. When breakfast was over, she quickly took up a stack of posters and told her friends that she was going to put them in the common rooms. No one protested.

The silly idea was bound to fail anyway. Just look at S.P.E.W.

Tired of Interhouse Rivalry? Want to make new friends? Come to the first meeting of the Society of Interhouse Cooperation and Kindness! Tonight, 7PM in the Room of Requirement – refreshment provided!

000

A few weeks passed with no troubles for the Slytherins and Gryffindors. Rivalry was still strong, hatred was still in the air, and everyone was happy in their separate worlds. If a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were acting friendlier towards each other, who cared? That was their business.

If there were more students with cheerily colored buttons declaring- _Join S.I.C.K. and Join the Future! _Or, _End the S.I.C.K.ness Between the Houses!_ -Well, most of them were younger students anyway.

Or so they tried to tell themselves.

But more and more students were going to the meetings. And they weren't all silly Hufflepuffs and fair-minded Ravenclaws.

And more and more, the older Slytherins and Gryffindors were growing concerned that the boundaries of their comfortable hatred were being encroached on by the forces of Lovey-Dovey Togetherness.

Together.

With _them._

Ew.

When Pansy Parkinson and Ronald Weasley broke up a heated snogging session between a Fifth Year Slytherin and Gryffindor in the dungeons after curfew, they knew it had gone too far. These were students who should _know_ better.

It had to be stopped.

Hence, The Unholy Alliance was formed.

A/N: I am totally pissed. For some reason, posted Chapter one of 'So Mote it Be' in place of the first chapter of this story. Argh. So very sorry if anyone was confused. Here is the real chapter.


	2. Countermeasures

Title: Misguided Sympathy (2/3) 

Author: Vashka 

Rating: PG-13 for some cursing 

Summary: An earth-shattering conversation with Draco Malfoy makes Hermione see the errors of her ways. Will the Slytherins and Gryffindors survive Hermione's kindness intact? Or will the spirit of Interhouse Cooperation triumph?

000

**Meeting The First of The Unholy Alliance**

If you told anyone in the motley group of Slytherins and Gryffindors at the end of last term that they would form a super-secret organization bent on the destruction of Hermione Granger's not-so-secret organization, any one of them would probably punch you in the mouth.

But here they were, crammed into a tiny, damp room in the dungeon uncomfortably looking at each other, waiting for someone to speak.

Harry Potter, Ronald and Ginny Weaseley, and Neville Longbottom were in chairs directly facing Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, and Millicent Bulstrode.

Silence.

"A-Anyone for an ice-breaker?"

Eight razor sharp glares (okay, six razor sharp glares and two… rather dull looks) focused on Neville.

Sweating a bit, he stammered, "I… I heard that in un-uncomfortable situations with a new group, ice-breakers h-help relieve the tension. I read it in _The Quibbler_. It's a muggle thing." He smiled weakly. "Any… Anyone have a good idea where to do the ice-breaker? It's a bit late in the year to find fresh ice outside."

Silence.

Millicent Blustrode, surprisingly, was the first to respond. "I know a good freezing spell. I could make some ice sculptures."

Gregory Goyle, in the first full speech that the Gryffindors had ever heard him say in seven years, said, "I know a tool shed where there is a big sledgehammer. We could smash up the ice with that."

Harry, holding in chuckles at the idea of literally 'breaking the ice', spoke up, "Erm… well, muggles _really_…"

And was quickly interrupted by Draco Malfoy. "Shut it Potter. We certainly don't need to hear your opinion. Let's go outside, it's certainly better than sitting here and staring at your ugly face."

So, the U.H.A. (Acronym provided by Draco, to which Ginny replied with, "How is that any better than S.I.C.K.?" To which Draco responded with, "Shove it, She-Weasel") gathered their supplies and adjourned to the side of the lake.

Millicent made a nice ice sculpture of Former Minister of Magic Fudge with a smirk, and gave the sledge to Draco to take the first shot. It made a quite satisfying _crack_ against the 'skull.'

Each of them took a turn, and when Fudge was destroyed by a hard blow by Pansy, ("Nice arms," was the comment by Ron. When Harry looked at him strangely, Ron mumbled something unintelligible about Quidditch, beaters, and women.) Millicent created an ice-Professor Snape. Shyly, Neville stepped up to the plate, and grinned at her. "Always wanted to take a swing at the greasy bastard."

Millicent broke out into a hearty laugh that showed her dimples. "I would too, if I were you."

The ice truly was broken.

Later, as they watched Crabbe and Goyle take turns artfully smashing the heck out of a frosty Professor McGonagall, conversation turned to the matter at hand.

Pansy Parkinson looked at the Gryffindors and asked seriously, "You know Granger the best. Can you get her to just… stop this nonsense?"

This question brought a variety of different reaction from the Gryffindors. Harry and Ron burst out laughing, while Neville looked sick. Ginny, however, looked thoughtful and said, "That is unlikely. She is very persistent in the face of adversity, and when she feels there is a wrong in the world that needs to be righted, she is even more so. What's worse is that she's not afraid to do it alone."

Harry and Ron, recovering from their earlier mirth, burst into fresh gales at this statement. Harry wheezed, "House… elves… tiny… knitted hats!" Ron laughed even harder.

Everyone else looked at them as if they had gone daft.

Draco, looking at them, said dryly, "Well, we got a lot accomplished this meeting. Thursday then?"

000

**Meeting The Second of The Unholy Alliance**

"Down to business, everyone. Business!"

The U.H.A. was having its second meeting in the uncomfortable dungeon room, but it was definitely not as uncomfortable an atmosphere. Ginny was studying for some exam or other. Harry, Ron, and Neville were arguing loudly about a Professional Quidditch match held the day before. Crabbe shocked the Gryffindors by jumping into the conversation, and then stunned them even more by being an avid Chudley Cannons fan. Millicent and Pansy were talking quietly, and Draco was leaning against the wall looking absolutely bored to tears.

Draco tried shouting again, "Oi! Hey! Do you all want to be stuck together forever?" This brought the expected silence, and Draco was satisfied. Confidently, he went on, "I now call the Second Meeting of The U.H.A. to order, will you all please rise for your Lord and Master, The Esteemed Dr…"

In unison, all the other members threw whatever was handy at him.

After being pummeled by books, quills, and various other objects, (Pansy Parkinson actually pulled a Snitch out of her robes and hurled it with deadly accuracy at Draco's face. The boys were suitably Impressed.) Draco sulked down in his chair and sneered, "Well, you were all acting like a bunch of ninnies anyway. We need to talk about how to stop Granger. And that bloody _hurt_."

Ginny was looking very solemn as well, her usually animated face grave. She held up a small flyer, "Has anyone seen this? I found one in the Gryffindor Common Room a few hours ago. A bunch of third year girls were giggling over it."

Pansy shook her head. "I haven't heard anything new."

Ginny paused dramatically; lips pursed, eyes twinkling, and then flourished the flyer so everyone could see what was written in bold script.

_Adopt-A-Slytherin Day! This weekend,befriend a Slytherin and take him/her to Hogsmeade! Zonkos, The Three Broomsticks, and more are not the same without a snakey friend!_

Ginny promptly burst into hysterics.

After a moment of stunned silence, the rest of the Gryffindors did too.

Ron, in between chuckles, looked at Harry and panted, "She can't be serious, can she? I mean this has to be some sort of joke!"

Harry was laughing so hard, salty streams of tears were running down his face. "I… I don't know, mate. This seems a bit much, even for Hermione."

The Slytherins were lethally silent.

Glaring at the flyer, Draco Malfoy looked like he was going to have a stroke. "That curly-haired little _brat_! How _dare_ she insult me this way! How dare she desecrate the pride of the noble house of Slytherin! I'll wring that little neck of hers if it's the last thing I do!"

Ginny looked askance at Malfoy, and said "Uh, Malfoy? Don't take it so personally. I don't think it was an attack on _you_."

Malfoy ignored her and muttered something incoherent about bushy-haired know-it-alls.

Pansy Parkinson, on the other hand, looked ill. "I think I heard some of the younger students talking about this. They were actually excited about going to Hogsmeade with their new _friends_. Revolting"

Neville, having overcome his fit of giggles earlier than Harry and Ron, had a suggestion. "What about reminding Hermione about her N.E.W.T. revision schedule? S.I.C.K. has to be taking up a good deal of time. Maybe then she will quit and this will all go away."

Everyone looked startled.

Plan A was born.

000

**Meeting The Third of The Unholy Alliance**

"A First Year Hufflepuff asked me for directions to the Astronomy Tower. Me! The Slytherin King, the dreadful scourge of the student populace, the evil demon of the dungeon, the spiteful snake of…"

"Yes Malfoy, we get the point."

"Errr, so what did you do?"

"Directed him to the infirmary, of course. Caught off guard you know. Very hard to think of something evil on the spot like that."

"Right. Remind me to note the difficulty of impromptu evil."

"Shut it, Weasley."

"Plan A was no good. She is still on schedule for N.E.W.T.s, no sign of panic, no sign of stopping 'Sick' unfortunately."

"Damn. I was sure that would work."

"What else does the goody-goody care about?"

"Besides school? Saving Harry from Voldemort. Sorry, not going to go _there_ to distract her."

"Ummm… House Elves?"

"Brilliant! We just need to 'remind' her of her dreadful negligence of Spew, and all will be well."

"Can I request that this be better planned than the last venture? I mean, because that worked _sooo_ well and all…"

"Malfoy, will you _please _shut up?"

"I a-agree with Malfoy."

"Neville, you traitor!"

"Well, I do!"

"Boys! They are right Weasel. We need more impetus than just a verbal nudge. Who can be mean to house elves?"

"I can be mean to house elves!"

"Me too!"

"Good to know boys. Good to know."

000

**Meeting The Fifth of The Unholy Alliance **

Draco Malfoy sighed, "Plan B is aborted."

Pansy spoke up, "I still think that with more prodding, she will devote more energies to Spew, and leave Sick. Wait. That sounds like Goyle after he has had too many pumpkin pasties."

Draco shook his head, "She is still doing Spew. I documented her saying 'I will never give up S.P.E.W. while breath is left in my body.' This was after she had finished slapping Crabbe silly for his mistreatment of house elves in font of her." He shook his head slowly, and then said almost admiringly, "Where the hell does she find the time?"

Harry groaned and said, "Who knows? It's one of the mysteries of the universe. We still need a Plan C though."

All of a sudden, Millicent rushed into the tiny room, large bosom heaving with every breath. "Sorry I'm late. Sorry. I was coming to the meeting, and I saw… this"

It was a pamphlet. With pretty pictures.

_How to Make Friends With Crabbe and Goyle. (Malfoy Is Really Just Full Of Hot Air)_

_Step One: Feed them._

_Step Two: Repeat until they associate your face with food. (See: Pavlov)_

_Favored Foods: Sweets, cakes, cookies, pie, tarts, etc. (anything with sugar) _

The picture of Malfoy was rather silly, a little stick figure with a pointed nose and chin with a shock of pale blond hair. He had a large, intricate cloak which looked childish on his small figure. The pictures of Crabbe and Goyle were huge and round, and practically eclipsed the small picture of Malfoy.

Draco turned nearly purple with rage (it clashed horribly with his hair) and said, "I am _not_ that short!"

000

**Meeting The Seventeeth of The Unholy Alliance **

Everyone was so _tired_.

Millicent sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, "Is she some kind of machine or something?"

Neville looked at her and smiled wryly, "No, she's just Hermione."

Pansy chipped in, "She makes me tired just watching her."

Draco leaned back in his chair with a dreamy smile on his face, "Yeah, she has some magnificent stamina."

Stare.

"What?"

000

**Meeting The Twenty-Seventh of The Unholy Alliance**

Plan X was a failure. The Unholy Alliance was officially Out Of Ideas.

Pansy looked beseechingly at Ron, "We need a distraction. This is getting completely out of hand. It may not be able to be fixed at present, but by God, we can regain Interhouse Hatred for posterity!"

Ron just smiled weakly, "Tried distraction. Turning Crookshanks purple was only a two-hour distraction instead of the week we planned."

Pansy snapped angrily, "How was I to know that she knew an obscure counter curse to an obscure little spell that changes hair color?"

Ron shrugged, "She knows everything."

The two locked eyes, and engaged in heated ocular combat. Tension was high, glares were armed and ready, but the two fiery warriors were blocked by the insufferable (to some) Boy-Who-Lived-But-Then-Almost-Died-But-Really-Didn't.

Harry waved a hand between Ron and Pansy to catch their attention, and said, "What we need is something so engrossing, so time consuming, that she can't think of anything else."

Ginny's head snapped up, "Love."

Millicent blinked, "Come again?"

Ginny grinned and explained. "Love is incredibly time consuming, annoying, worrying …"

Millicent looked appeased, but Harry was still a bit confused, "Okaaay… But who? And How?"

Pansy looked him up and down appraisingly. She licked her lips, much to Harry's and Ron's dismay. "Well, it could be you Harry…"

Ginny slanted a look at her brother, and then Pansy, and then smirked slightly. She smiled toothily at Pansy and winked. "Nope, thinks of him as a brother."

Pansy, a bit perplexed about the random winking, decided to ignore it altogether. "Damn. How about Neville?"

"No, just not attracted to him, I think."

"Hey!" cried two voices. Millicent and Neville looked at each other with wide eyes, and they both immediately flushed crimson. Quickly, they looked at anything and everything else in the room.

Ginny looked at the display with amusement, "Sorry Nev."

"S'alright"

Ginny's eyes then took on a wicked gleam as she slanted a look at her brother, who was examining a Quidditch Magazine, "What about Ron?"

Pansy looked alarmed, "No!" she burst out, then flushed darkly. "Erhm, No way. Just too unattractive. All that red hair, and his… his tallness. Yes. Too tall. Big feet, big hands, big… well." She cleared her throat suddenly, as if she had something stuck in it. "He's just too big for her."

Ron looked at her oddly.

Harry, sensing the strange tension in the room, changed the subject. "Riiight… Anyway, who's left? Seamus and Dean are already dating, and someone younger or from outside Hogwarts won't take up nearly enough time…" He hesitated briefly, and then said "Someone from another house?"

Millicent was already looking at Draco. "What about Malfoy?"

Draco, who had been staring off into space, nearly fell out of his chair. "What? Me date Granger? Are you utterly mad?"

However, much to his horror, everyone else was looking thoughtful.

Goyle looked him over thoughtfully, "You know, he is complicated enough to keep her busy for a long, long time."

The usually quiet Crabbe even gave his opinion, "Maybe she could figure him out! I know I stopped trying after first year."

Pansy nodded sagely, "He never made much sense."

"True."

"Hey! I'm still here!"

"Is he attractive enough?"

"In a pointy sort of way"

"But she hates him!"

"He did fight on your side. He hasn't said the M-word in a long time, and with her new 'S.I.C.K.ly' worldview, she will be more tolerant of his 'eccentricities.' And there is enough seething sexual tension between them to light a forest fire."

"You noticed that too?"

"You would have to be blind not too."

"So she'll just shag his brains out after he finally declares his undying passion?"

"Or she will slap him silly."

"Or that."

Draco was standing up by now, glaring at everyone. "Oi! Still here you know! And you will desist from all ill-advised plans of matchmaking. That's final." Satisfied, he leaned back into his chair to peruse Hermione's latest pamphlet, _Your Inner Slytherin (They Aren't That Different. Really.)_

He didn't see the covert looks exchanged between Pansy and Ginny.

000

A/N: Well, here is part 2! Hope you find this amusing, had a lot of fun writing it. To answer a question, no this is NOT a continuation of "So Mote it Be" under a different name. I actually have the first chapter of that fic written and most planned, but am waiting for the 6th book. Might as well wait and hope that it won't totally screw with my planned plot! Anyway, till next week!


	3. Falling Into You

**Title:** Misguided Sympathy (3/3) 

**Author:** Vashka 

**Rating:** PG-13 for some cursing 

**Summary:** An earth-shattering conversation with Draco Malfoy makes Hermione see the errors of her ways. Will the Slytherins and Gryffindors survive Hermione's kindness intact? Or will the spirit of Interhouse Cooperation triumph?

**Author's Note: **I really loved writing this fic, and I am so happy you liked it! I am working on the next chapter of Vengeance, but am stuck on a few things. Be patient! It should be up within a week or so.

000

**Disclaimer** – I really don't own Harry Potter

000

**Operation: Set up Granger and Malfoy**

The next week was quite uncomfortable for Draco Malfoy.

For some reason, he kept running into Granger. Literally. He didn't think he had had this much bodily contact with a girl since… ever. (Never to be admitted to anyone, of course.) The upside of 'The Incidents,' as he dubbed them in his mind, was the increase in time to tease the hell out of Granger. The downside… Well, the downside was that her scent (Jasmine), the feel of her skin (like wet silk), the texture of her hair (surprisingly soft), the heat of her eyes when angry… and well, everything, was burned into his brain.

He was sure he was having the same effect on her.

He hoped he was having the same effect.

Well… he couldn't tell, honestly.

He was almost certain she felt the same irritating breathlessness earlier by the lake. There he was, reading _Advanced Arithmancy for Really, Really Smart People _in the sun, when he heard a soft "Oh!" and something small and female shaped landed on top of him. Hard.

After he regained breathing, he realized the small figure was actually quite well proportioned and squirming in a very delicious way. _If she keeps that up, she might get more than she bargained for. _

Then he got a good look at her face and realized the curvy woman was actually not a woman at all, but The Most Annoying Bint on the Planet. (But Still Rather Good Looking, Unfortunately)

She suddenly stopped wriggling and searched his face. Her hair was up off of her face, and frizzed slightly from its confines. _It looks like she has a halo, _he thought.

Her dark, dark eyes softened and she whispered, "Malfoy…"

His breathing sped up a little, and he unconsciously looked at her lips as they hovered so close to his.

"Would you help me get up?"

Shaking _idiotic_ thoughts from his mind, he quickly disentangled them, and squelched any desire he might have for the silly little know-it-all. It would never work anyway, and he certainly wouldn't give the U.H.A. the satisfaction.

Neither of them noticed the cloak peeking out from behind the trees.

000

It happened again in Ancient Runes. If Draco wasn't absolutely sure that he was destined to lead a charmed life, he might think some deity was plotting against him. Or the U.H.A.

_Hmmm… Nah._ They wouldn't go against him. He was much too intimidating.

There were only five students in N.E.W.T. level Ancient Runes, and the Professor never stayed long after class. Draco lingered that day to look over the homework assignment once more, making sure he understood the requirements. Quickly packing up, he sauntered out of the classroom just behind Granger. _Damn, she really is short. Even compared to me._

Bemused, Draco suddenly felt a sharp _tug _on his right ankle. Dropping his bag, and windmilling his arms in a completely undignified attempt to keep his balance, he had almost righted himself when he felt another hard _tug _on his left.

He was done for.

Falling (Gracefully. Malfoys were always graceful.) straight onto Hermione.

His arm somehow became entangled with her bag, and as he simultaneously tried to stand up and extract his arm, he suddenly realized that his hands were brushing very sensitive parts of her anatomy. Flushing scarlet (Curse his pale complexion!) he lowered his petrified gaze to Hermione's.

Flushed a furious red, her eyes glittered dangerously. "And just _what _do you think you are doing?"

Trying to put his hands in a safe place and get out of the situation, he spat, "What does it look like, Granger?" He smirked, "Just repaying the favor. You know you like it."

He wasn't sure what devil made him say that, but her reaction certainly was amusing.

Mouth gaping, eyes wide, she started sputtering, "What? You think that I… You… Me… This… UGH!"

With a frustrated scream, she bucked her hips and neatly rolled him over, so that her thighs were straddling his lean hips. Firmly smacking her hands on his chest, she levered herself up, picked up her bag and flounced to the door, leaving a shell-shocked Draco flat on his back.

Hermione flipped her hair over her shoulder angrily, and pulled the handle firmly.

The door didn't budge.

Furrowing her brows, she tried again with the same result.

Throwing her bag on the floor, she whipped out her wand. "_Alohomora!" _

Nothing happened.

Blowing a bit of hair out of her eyes, she looked at the door with a pinched expression. "Why am I not surprised?"

Throwing a battery of advanced unlocking charms at the door, she soon wore herself out. Panting slightly, she muttered, "I knew I should have looked at _Studies for the_ _Advanced Locksmith_ more closely. I just flipped through it, and look at the pickle I'm in now." Looking over her shoulder, she called, "Malfoy? Oi! Malfoy! What are you still doing on the floor?"

Draco was lying on his back in the same position he was in when Hermione so dramatically threw him.

_Thighs straddling… there… Hips touching… there…_

Very distracted, he didn't notice the book aimed directly at his head.

"Ow! Merlin Granger, that bloody hurt!"

"Good. Now get off your arse and help with this door."

Fifteen minutes and many useless spells later, they were still stuck.

Growling in frustration, Hermione kicked the door.

Draco smirked, "Feel better?"

Hermione sent him a dry look, "Much." Picking up her bag from the floor, she moved to one of the abandoned desks. "I might as well get some work done. This was my last class, and I usually spend this time in the library, so no one will probably miss me until dinner. You?"

Draco leaned against the door and ran a tired hand through his hair. "Same. With my schedule, no one will talk to the Professors until dinner."

Sighing, Hermione unpacked her books. "I was afraid of that."

Draco shrugged and set up his materials on the opposite side of the room. _Nothing better to do than study anyway._

After about a half-hour of reading, he became aware of a prickling sensation on the back of his neck. _Someone's watching me. _

When it didn't subside after a few moments, he quickly looked up and caught Granger's dark eyes gazing at him intently.

She flushed brightly, and looked back at her papers.

Draco, disgruntled, spat out, "What do you want?"

Hermione, still with color high on her cheeks, nevertheless, looked him straight in the eye. "I don't have my Potions text. If I want to do a decent job on the essay due next week, I need to start today… But then _this_ happened." She smiled half-heartedly, "I saw that you were reading it, and I was wondering if I could look on with you?"

Draco smirked, "I don't know, what will you give me?"

The slightly embarrassed expression Hermione had been sporting quickly morphed into one Draco was more familiar with. Anger.

She glared at him and said, "Fine! See if I need you… you slimy, sneaky…"

Suddenly, she cut herself off. Her anger deflated, she turned back to her studies. She mumbled an apology so softly that Draco almost didn't hear it.

"Sorry Malfoy."

Those words somehow melted Draco's façade of anger as well. He sighed wearily, and rolled his eyes to the heavens, sure that he was crazy for what he was about to offer the annoying cow.

"You can study over here."

"Come again?"

"Are you deaf as well as daft, woman? It's a one time offer!"

Hermione, looking very surprised, quickly gathered her things and scurried over to Draco's table. Setting up her things, she soon started scratching away on a loose leaf of parchment.

As she leaned over to read some passage, she was careful not to touch him. However, her wild hair was down today. Consequently, as she bent forward, her hair would gently brush against his face and neck, distracting the hell out of him. This close, her scent overwhelmed him, at once calming and exciting him.

He hoped someone found them soon.

000

"They're studying!"

Pansy turned to her partners in crime, Ron, Ginny and Harry, and threw her arms up in frustration. Disgruntled, she looked through the window again.

Ginny looked at the cozy scene inside and grinned wickedly, "With academic geeks, there is no telling what they consider foreplay. They could be having mental sex right now."

Ron turned bright red and started sputtering about little sisters and dirty minds, while Pansy and Harry laughed uproariously at the mental image of Draco reading a Potions textbook to turn on a swooning Hermione.

While they were still chuckling, Ron had finally gained control of his temper enough to speak, and changed the subject. "Gotten very good at that tripping jinx though."

"Tell me about it"

Harry's face was thoughtful, "Maybe the setting isn't right? Don't girls like things to be all romantic and stuff?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, and said wryly, "Yes, Harry, girls like all that 'romance stuff' as you so elegantly put it."

Pansy, bored with the lack of action in the classroom, joined the conversation, "You know, he might be onto something. And I know just the person who could help us out…"

000

"… I can't believe Snape gave me detention. Me! And with _you_ of all people. It's like he wants to torture me."

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "Well, it's not like you were my first choice either, Malfoy."

Draco ignored her and continued with his rant, "And I didn't do anything wrong! Pansy was tormenting you, as usual, and I was laughing, as usual. And he gave me detention. Me!"

Looking at him out of the corner of her eye, Hermione smirked, "I think the exercise is numbing your brain. Your monologue is getting quite repetitive. I know you can do better."

"Shove it, Granger."

"Oh, clever comeback."

Draco had no response to this, and continued to walk. Snape had sent them to gather the blossoms of the moonflower, which only bloomed on balmy spring nights. As the only moonflower patch was inconveniently stationed deep in the Forbidden Forest, it was often a task for unlucky students who had the pleasure of detention with the irritable Professor.

The night was eerily perfect. Not too cold, with slight breeze, clear skies, full moon.

Draco didn't trust it.

It was almost as if Snape was setting them up on a _date_.

Niggling thoughts about the U.H.A. and convoluted plans started to form in his mind, but he shoved those thoughts down for later contemplation. Much later.

Right now, he had to concentrate on how horribly annoying Granger was, rather than watch how the moonlight made her skin glow.

Bad brain!

They found the moonflower patch, and it looked like a scene for the Seduction of the Innocent Maiden by the Dashing Hero in a trashy romance novel. (Not that Draco had ever read one for pleasure, of course. Just for instruction on the incomprehensible female mind.)

As he thought about everything but how ethereal Granger looked picking moonflowers, he soon became aware of her voice.

"…You really aren't all that bad Malfoy. I am rather sorry for teasing you all of these years. Maybe I could help others see this side of you. I have it! I could make a group, like S.I.C.K., but perhaps not so formal." As Hermione's active brain started whirring, she started to ignore the boy at her side for the fascinating ideas coming to her. (Maybe a new pamphlet? _Malfoy: Secretly Sensitive, _sounded nice)

For some reason, her statement made him irrationally angry. He stopped in mid-stride, rounded on Hermione, and grabbed her shoulders, pressing his fingers into the soft flesh of her upper arms. Looking her in the eye, he spoke softly, "I will _not_ be another of your projects, do you hear? I am Draco Malfoy!"

As he spoke his face moved closer and closer to Hermione's shocked one, until his nose was almost brushing hers. "I do not care about what the mindless peons at this school think of me. I am a _Slytherin_. I will survive adversity and it will make me stronger. I do not need your _help_."

Her eyes, wide and searching all through his tirade, grew soft. She tilted her head toward his and whispered, "I don't think anyone should be alone. Not even you. Especially not you."

Draco closed his eyes and groaned as the sincerity of her words washed through him and tugged at a secret place in his chest. His hand traveled from her upper arms to caress the nape of her neck, and he sunk his hand into the thick hair there.

He leaned in slightly, until their lips were a breath apart, and said, "You are going to be the death of me, woman."

As his heart pounded in his ears, the scent of moonflowers and Hermione filled his nostrils, making him dizzy, he did the unthinkable.

He kissed Hermione Granger.

Warm lips met his, frozen in shock. Moving slowly, Draco gently kissed her unresponsive mouth. Desperate, he slowly traced the seal of her unmoving lips with the very tip of his tongue. With a shuddering sigh, her arms crept around his over-warm body to clasp him close, surrendering to his touch.

With a triumphant growl, he parted her lips and thrust his tongue hungrily into her hot, waiting cavern. He was mindless, he was calculating, he was dominant, he was submissive. It was everything he had ever wanted in a kiss, but he was left wanting more, so much more.

Hermione suddenly tore herself away from his embrace, hand lightly touching her mouth, her dark, glittering, eyes searching his. Hurriedly picking up the basket of flowers, she muttered something about Snape and a Potions Essay, and ran out of the clearing.

Under the whispering branches, Draco stood amongst the moonflowers and watched her leave.

000

Draco found her by side of the lake the next evening, sitting with her knees drawn up under her chin. She looked small. She looked… vulnerable. The strong, indomitable Hermione Granger in a moment of doubt. Maybe she was a girl after all, with at least some of the insecurities of one.

He sat next to her, watching her out of the corner of his eye. He thought he saw her face flush, but in the dying light, he wasn't sure.

The sat in comfortable silence, watching the squid wave his tentacles in the dying sunlight. Suddenly, Hermione asked, "Do you still think I am prejudiced?"

Draco looked at her face suspiciously, and then sighed, "No. I suppose never really did. Misguided maybe, but not prejudiced."

"I thought…"

"Screw what you thought!" He spat angrily. He looked at her stricken dark eyes and ran a hand through his platinum hair. "I have seen real prejudice. Real hate. I don't think you have ever hated anything in your whole life. I just wanted you to think… to see the incredible hypocrisy of your goody-goody Gryffindor morals."

"Do you… do you hate me?"

"I don't think I ever did. Not really. Resented you, but not hate. I tried and tried, but I never could."

She nodded slightly and looked at her shoes. "Why did you still treat me like shit after… after the battle?"

Draco shrugged and smirked sardonically, "Why did you? Comfort, sameness. It was something I needed"

Hermione was silent as she absorbed this and watched the trees, bright with new growth, wave about in the wind. Suddenly, something seemed to snap into place, and she looked at him directly for the first time, "I guess I needed it too."

"Do you need it anymore?"

Wide eyes look at him, surprised. Then she smiled - a small, true smile. "I guess I… I don't. Maybe that's why I did this. To prove I don't need all this hate in me anymore. I don't know."

"You don't have to know. I don't have to _know_. I think… I think we just need a chance to just freaking _be_ for once. Screw destiny, screw the future." Draco reached out and touched her cheek, threaded his fingers through her halo-hair, and smiled too.

000

Over by the tree line, there was a slight depression in the ground. In said depression, were two people watching this 'disgusting display of sap.' When they couldn't take the snogging anymore (and Draco and Hermione showed no sign of stopping) they turned their backs on the revoltingly happy couple to look at each other.

Pansy smiled engagingly and said, "U.H.A. mission complete. Was so sweet it gagged me, though. Didn't know Draco had it in him."

Ron smiled back. "Damn that was easy."

"They have been dancing around each other for years, you know. Will make beautiful babies. Probably have a lot of fun doing it too…"

"Ew, Parkinson, spare me! Now my mind feels unclean. Picturing them naked was not what I wanted to do today."

"How about me naked?"

"…What?"

"Damn, I forgot you were a Gryffindor with all of this sneaking. Screw subtlety, just snog me Weasel-boy!"

000

**Name/Pen Name:** Zarah  
**LJ Username:** N/A  
**E-mail:** you over 18: yes  
**Rating(s) you're willing to write:** G - PG13  
**Rating(s) of the fic you want:** G - PG13  
**One tone/mood you want your gift to include:** humor  
**One element/theme/item you want your gift to include:** Can I ask for a side pairing? If yes, Ron/Pansy.  
**One common cliche, plot device or stereotype you don't want your gift to include:** Sudden makeovers. Spare me, please.


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